


How to Summon a Familiar

by kibosama



Category: Human Familiar - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, M/M, Magical Realism, Rhodey is a good wingman, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve as the super soldier we love best, Steve has a weakness for things that need protecting, Tony Stark Protection Squad Assemble!, Tony as a mage, Tony is a walking disaster, Tony might as well be wearing a target, and earn an M rating, because these two are so going to bang, feeeeeeels, low angst, magical shenanigans shall commence!, that we love anyway, will get to some action eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibosama/pseuds/kibosama
Summary: Tony Stark's magic is the epitome of strange. It doesn't follow the rules of any other magic user, it barely will let him create things, and it's only happy when destroying things down to the molecules. Because of it, he's very close to failing the final Trials to become a licensed mage, and if that happens, the life he's constructed will go straight down the tubes.Tony's out of time, so in desperation, he does the one thing that he has no faith he can accomplish - he tries to summon a familiar and complete the Trials. And it works!Well. Sort of.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Tony Stark was of the opinion that if life was going to fuck him over, it could at least use lube.

He’d been having a good day before the postman had dropped letters into his mail slot. Normally, Tony would ignore that until someone tripped over it (likely him). But he’d been expecting a payment from a customer, and so he’d scooped up the bundle to thumb through it. The official letter from the magic council with its waxed embossed seal had caught his eye. And filled him with dread. He never heard anything good from them.

Against his better judgment, he sat down at his work bench to open it. And then, to continue with his bad decision making process, actually read the damn thing. Why? Because he was apparently a glutton for punishment.

With a sigh, he let the letter fall into his lap. Really, he couldn’t act surprised. He’d known this day was coming. It was just annoying that it had happened today and not some other day when he could ignore it. Well, annoying wasn’t likely the right word. This had some pretty serious implications.

A knock at his door signaled that someone was coming into this lab. Workspace, whatever you wanted to call it. Pepper voted for carnage-in-distress. Rhodey was more apt in calling it a horror-show. Tony hadn’t heard high heels on the stone steps outside his door, so it was likely Rhodey braving his doorway. “Come in!”

Sure enough, it was Rhodey that slipped through, carrying a tray of something that looked like food. There was an exasperated expression on his friend’s face as he asked archly, “Did you order food from the café across the street and forget again?”

Oops. “In my defense—”

“Oh, you have a defense this time?” Rhodey made his way around the cluttered work bench and tried, rather in vain, to find a spot where to put the tray down.

“I do, rather, although I wish I didn’t in this case.” Tony traded him letter for tray, as he didn’t want to hold the letter anyway. Not that he had much interest in food right now.

Rhodey allowed the swap, and as he read the letter, his dark brows furrowed tight together in mounting concern. “Tony…this says….”

“Oh trust me, I know what it says. I have a month to summon a familiar and complete the last of the Trials or I’m done.” Tony laughed, a little bitterly. He’d been skirting by as being a novice mage for years now, well past the time that he should have graduated. And it wasn’t like he didn’t understand the concepts of magic. It’s just that his magic didn’t want to cooperate.

He looked around at his workshop and felt a pang. Even this had been something of a grace given to him. Tony’s mind liked mechanical things, and it especially liked dissecting spells, so he’d gained something of a reputation. It had led slowly into this business, where he could build things for other mages, or study a spell for them when it went wrong and point out the weakness. It had been a rather steady income. And fun, too.

But if the magic council decided that he was no longer fit to be even a student mage, all of this would come to an end. Without a permit to work magic, he was done. He wouldn’t be able to operate a legal business.

Rhodey’s expression was a study in sympathy and concern. “Gods above, Tones, I know we suspected this was coming, but it’s still damn hard.”

He really couldn’t even think of eating. Turning, Tony shoved a pile of stacked sheet metal to the side and put the tray there. It was easier to do that menial task than look into Rhodey’s face. “Rhodey. That plan we talked about before, you know the one where you buy me out? So that the business can stay open, and I’m your employee, at least on paper….”

“I’ll still do that for you. Because I know this place means a lot to you, and it’s a good way for you to work. Hell, Pepper said she’d do it if you promised not to drive her insane. But Tony,” here Rhodey ducked sideways, trying to catch his eye, “I want you to try just one thing first.”

Tony peeked at him from the side of his eye. “Try what? What can I possibly try at this stage?”

“Passing the Trials.”

Tony let his head flop back in exasperation. “Rhodey—”

“No, don’t react like that. I know that you think it’s impossible, but fuck it, Tony. You haven’t really tried.”

“I know—we _both_ know—that the last two parts of the trial are impossible with my magic—”

“The fuck we know it! You haven’t tried! And I know that your magic sucks at anything dealing with creation—”

“Way to understate it, there, that was masterful.”

Rhodey kept going, not letting Tony sidetrack him. “—but summoning a familiar is the basics. The very, very basics and even your magic doesn’t completely screw up the basic magic tenants. Every time,” he muttered that last words.

Tony blew out a breath and reminded himself that he was asking a favor of Rhodey and so hitting him at this juncture probably wouldn’t help his cause any. As tempting as that was. And it was highly tempting.

Since he was first tested for magic at five years old, it had been clear to everyone that Tony’s magic didn’t play by the rules. Anything dealing with creation was somehow this insane task for him to complete. Even a basic fire spell. Wards were borderline, at best. But destroying something? Piece of cake. Tony’s eyes could dissect something down to its molecule without even trying. His magic could dismantle it and leave him feeling refreshed instead of drained.

It was a little disturbing, even for him. Sometimes Tony lingered in his workspace for days, creating with his hands what he couldn’t do with his magic, just to feel a little less strange. Not so much the odd man out. But there was no denying how his magic operated, which was why he’d created the job for himself that he had.

But it was because of all this that he couldn’t pass the Trials. The Trials were a three part test, the first of which was a written exam (Tony had passed that one with flying colors), summoning a familiar, and finally a practical exam. He’d stalled on the second part because summoning was very close to the end of the magical spectrum that he sucked at.

Blowing out a breath, Tony sat there and weighed his options. If he humored Rhodey, it would likely be embarrassing as hell, but…well, that would put an end to it all, wouldn’t it? The hopeless, wistful dreams he sometimes had about actually acquiring a mage’s license. Instead of working under someone else’s. Maybe that would be healthy for him. Tony was of the opinion it would hurt like hell.

But at least Rhodey and Pepper would get off his back about trying to summon a familiar. And that might make a day’s worth of embarrassment and pain worth it.

“Fine,” he decided on a whim. “Fine, let’s do it.”

“I’ll even help supply you with magic power, to boost you,” Rhodey offered, smiling now because he’d gotten his way.

Tony snorted. Magical power wasn’t the issue. He’d measured himself often in the early days, trying to understand why his magic wasn’t performing like everyone else’s. Power had never been the problem. But he humored Rhodey because he didn’t want to argue that, too. “Sure, I’ll call you in if I need to. Let’s just get this over with.”

Rhodey startled as Tony stood, heading to a clear(ish) patch of floor. “Wait, now? You want to do it right now?”

“As you have already stated, this is a pretty basic spell. How am I supposed to prep for it, Rhodey?”

Rhodey ran a hand over his short, wiry hair. “I meant like, mental prep. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. Where’s your chalk?”

“That’s always the question.” Tony spun in place, taking in the many tables filled with half-done projects, and cast his mind back to the last time he’d scrawled a design out onto one of his massive chalkboards. He couldn’t even remember what day that was. “Maybe…yeah, I have no clue, I’m not pretending otherwise. A new box should be in the supply cabinet, just grab one from there.”

As Rhodey fetched chalk, Tony took a minute to shove some boxes aside. He had an influx of orders to deal with and seriously no time for this nonsense. He tried to hold onto that indignation instead of all the other emotions trying to batter at him.

With Rhodey’s very capable help, they drew out the large summoning circle on the wooden floor. No one knew what kind of creature a mage would call upon. Tony had seen everything from unicorns to dogs. It was whatever the mage’s own magic deemed suitable. People tended to draw large summoning circles. Just in case.

That done, Tony brushed chalk off his fingers before standing just in front of it. Great stonking deities, but this was more difficult than he’d expected. Emotionally speaking, at least. He’d thought he’d long given up any hope of having a familiar or being properly licensed, but apparently not. It was welling up in the back of his throat now and making it rather hard to breathe. He sucked in a deep breath, lifted both hands, and spoke the simple incantation. “ _Virgore le söhne se Klara del mreene.”_

For a long, paralyzing moment, nothing seemed to happen. Rhodey’s hand came to rest at his back, not only bracing him, but tingling with his own magical power.

“I’ll boost you—”

A tingle spread from his fingers, flaring out and connecting to the summoning circle. “Wait,” Tony said to his friend sharply. “Wait, I feel a connection to it.”

Rhodey immediately snatched his hand back. “It’s working?!”

“I think so…I certainly feel something.” Tony stared at the light building within the summoning circle, barely breathing. What was that? Something was coming through, something taller than himself. Tony blinked and between one second to another, the form materialized fully, the summoning abruptly complete. But it wasn’t a creature of some sort that Tony had brought through.

It was a man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats, Tony, you've summoned a Steve! Don't worry, you'll think of all sorts of things to do with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve Rodgers had seen a lot of crazy things in the war. Survived things that most men wouldn’t have. He’d worked with mages often, too, and he knew the signs of a portal spell well enough as he’d stepped through many of them. But this wasn’t a portal spell, and he’d certainly not agreed to travel anywhere. So what the hell was going on here?

Two men stared back at him. One of them was clearly the mage that had brought him here, as the magic swirled around his extended hands, connecting him to the spell. Steve stared at him, perplexed by all this. He was a nice enough looking man, dark hair with some wave to it, golden skin, a goatee around his mouth. If he were much older than Steve himself, he’d eat his boots.

The other man looked nice, too, taller and darker in skin than his companion. He was watching Steve as if he’d started a strip show, eyes in danger of leaving his head altogether. Steve didn’t know what he’d done to warrant that reaction. Steve was in casual wear of khaki pants and a leather jacket, as he’d been on the way to the docks to work out some frustration. Then again, maybe it was him being here at all that garnered this reaction? Steve was certainly surprised to go from docks to this cluttered workroom with no warning.

No one said anything for a long moment until the mage groaned aloud. “Fucking shit! How did I do that?!”

“I do not know,” his companion said, so shocked he was listing under it. “Seriously, I do not know, you did everything perfectly as far as I could see. Uh, sir? Do you understand me?”

“Fortunately.” Although they weren’t speaking Steve’s native language. But he had an ear for languages and this was one he’d learned during the war, a universal trader’s language. Interesting that they used it so naturally. “Hello. I’m Steve Rodgers. Who are you and why am I here?”

The mage had both hands over his face as if he were beyond pained. “Rhodey, just kill me.”

Rhodey smacked him in the back of the head. “Focus, you idiot. The man asked you a question.”

Dropping his hands, the mage looked at Steve with a crooked smile. “Hello, Steve Rodgers. I’m Tony Stark, a mage-in-training that just managed to royally screw up a familiar summoning. How, you might wonder. I wonder this myself. I mean, literally, how does my magic think that giving me a _man_ as a _familiar_ is a good idea? Someone tell me, I’m all out of ideas.”

Steve had to parse through some of that but he got the gist. “So, let me understand this properly. You’re a mage-in-training, which means you’re at the stage of summoning a familiar? Which you attempted, and got me?”

“To sum it up, buttercup, that’s precisely right. And now I need a nap. And alcohol. Ooh, alcohol then a nap. That’s the better order.”

Steve rather sympathized with that. Especially as the obvious implication was a doozey. “If you summoned me as a familiar, even by mistake, does that mean I’m currently bound to you as a familiar?”

Both men looked at him, then each other with blank expressions, then back to him. Tony studied him from head to toe, eyes narrowed intently, then swore some more. “I am. How in the ever-loving _hell_ —this makes no sense. Am I dreaming this? Someone tell me I’m dreaming this.”

Steve finally moved from his spot. He only had a flimsy grasp on the situation, and it did feel utterly surreal to him, no lie there. But he wasn’t a person that sat still under any circumstances. So he moved, towards this strange man that had accidentally summoned him. Lifting a hand, he pinched the man’s cheek and waggled it gently back and forth. “Not a dream, I think.”

Tony blinked up at him comically. “You’re taking this rather well.”

“No one’s actively shooting at me, so as strange as this situation is, I can safely say that I’ve been through worse.” Steve let go and looked around with interest. “Are you an artificer?”

“Uh, yes, that’s currently how I’m paying the bills and just how comfortable are you with mages that you can recognize an artificer’s workshop in a glance? And, sorry, back up but did you say shot at? People shoot at you?”

“Not anymore, at least. I was a soldier for years. Worked with lots of mages during the war.” Steve regarded him curiously. Most artificers were highly intelligent, or at least that was his experience. And magically creative. It fashioned something of a contradiction for him, because if Tony worked as an artificer, shouldn’t he be exceptional at magic? But then he bungled a basic spell. “Where am I, anyway? Aside from your workplace.”

“You’re in Calin,” Rhodey answered slowly. “Where are you from, Steve?”

“Brooks on Lynn,” Steve replied around a dry mouth. He felt like the world had just tilted on it’s axis. He was on the opposite side of the continent?! Weren’t summoning spells supposed to take something near you? Not thousands upon thousands of miles away.

“Shit, Tony, I think you just set a new summoning record for distance,” Rhodey breathed, taking Steve in from head to toe in a disconcerting manner. “And I think I know what happened here.”

Tony’s head snapped around. “What?”

“Let’s sit down, first. I think we all need alcohol for this conversation.” Rhodey turned around and headed for a staircase, as comfortable doing as if he owned the place.

For all Steve knew, he did. After a moment of hesitation, Tony followed him up, and Steve brought up the rear. It wasn’t the widest of staircases and he had to move somewhat sideways to keep his shield from banging against either side of the wall.

The upstairs was living quarters. Living quarters in need of a broom, as whoever stayed here didn’t really clean up after themselves. Tony immediately headed to a side cabinet under a window, pouring himself a glass of some amber liquid before knocking that back and pouring himself a second. Rhodey budged him with a soft hip check to pour himself a glass even as he asked Steve, “Want one?”

“Please.” Not that it would impact Steve much, but it would soothe his soul.

Rhodey handed him a short glass, and Steve took it with a nod of thanks. They all found chairs to sit in, Steve moving the shield off his back and to lean against the side of his leg. He found the chair comfortable and a good height for his long legs. Fortunately, as he was likely to be here a while.

Tony sank into a chair near his, draining half his glass, then let his head rest in both hands. “Okay. Yeah, okay, I’m braced. Hit me, Rhodey.”

“Let me back up for Steve’s sake.” Rhodey faced him squarely, glass between both hands. “Steve, are you familiar with the requirements for a summoning spell?”

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard them, officially.” Steve would remember if he had. His memory retained everything. “But I’ve heard that a familiar has to have the innate ability to both aid and guard a mage. Which is why they vary so much from mage to mage, as each mage has different needs.”

“Yes, good, you’ve got the basics. So, first rule is that the familiar summoned can’t belong to anyone else. Second is that it must have the strength and talents necessary to support the mage, as you just said. Third and last rule is that it must be willing to be bound.” Rhodey explained this in a very neutral tone of voice.

Steve ran this all through his head. He definitely checked the first box, as he was free and clear of the army. He wasn’t even dating someone right now. Whether he had the strength and talents remained to be seen. He didn’t know enough of Tony Stark to make that judgement yet. That third clause, though, that was the kicker. Steve did like to be committed to a cause, or at least dedicated to something he could believe in. Tony’s magic had somehow picked up on that? From across the continent? But why link Tony and Steve? Just who _was_ Tony Stark, anyway?

“A soldier,” Tony breathed, and the proverbial light flicked on in his dark eyes. “Gods above, of course. Of course.” He abruptly turned, words tripping over themselves as he explained, “My magic is strange. It doesn’t work like any other mage you’ve likely seen, it can’t do creation magic to save my life. I actually put that to the test once and failed miserably—”

He’d done what?!

“—but that’s neither here nor there, the point is I’ve figured out that I can destroy things just fine, that seems to be where my talent lies, but it takes me forever to get an incantation out. I can’t use grimoires, or static spells, they don’t mesh well with me. I have to do fresh, tailored spells every time. Longest spell I use it something like a three minute incantation.”

Steve stared back at him, eyes locked as he tried to read this man. Tony couldn’t use a grimoire? But all mages used grimoires, it’s how they managed to use spells in quick succession. It must be hell to have to create a spell every single time. And three minutes? “If something attacked you, you couldn’t begin to protect yourself.”

“No chance in hell, not with magic at least, which is why I use other means. Guns and I are friends.” Tony swallowed hard, eyes still locked on Steve. “You said you’re were a soldier? As in no longer?”

“Right. Discharged three months ago.”

“You’re good.” Tony said this like it was an answer, not a question.

Steve answered it anyway. “I’m one of the best. It sounds like bragging when I say that, I know.”

“No, it makes perfect sense. Why would my magic choose you, instead of some other soldier nearby? Because it was going for one of the best. Because that’s apparently what I need, more than a creature of some sort. Although how I’ll explain this to the magic council, that I do not know. Steve.” Tony grimaced, eyes falling to the floor. “No, that doesn’t matter, I guess. I’m sitting here talking like I can keep you, but obviously I can’t. You’ve got family and a life to get back to.”

“First clause.” Steve waited until Tony’s eyes flitted back up to his. “You’re forgetting the first clause. Your magic does indeed know what it’s doing. I’m not obligated to someone else, I’m not bound to be anywhere. I don’t have any family left to speak of. I’m not in a hurry to get back home, to tell you the truth. This situation is beyond strange, but also fantastical in the best sense. I want to see how it plays out a little. And right now, the two of you are guessing, right? This is your theory on why I’m here.”

Rhodey grunted agreement. “He’s got us there, Tony. We sound all sure of ourselves, but this is theory. I want to go back over the summoning circle and what you said, make sure we didn’t slip up somehow. Tests are definitely in order.”

“Yeah.” Tony knocked back the rest of his drink before repeating in a lower, slightly unhappy tone. “Yeah, we should do that. But really? You’re willing to stay, Steve?”

“For a while, sure. Nothing urgent drawing me back.” Steve eyed him, judging the wisdom to say this, but in the end said it anyway. “And you need a familiar, right?”

Tony’s mouth was crooked, in a semblance of a smile. “You could say that.”

***

Steve watched Tony and Rhodey work for a while, after that. They did some magical measurements on Steve, a quick and brisk wave of the wand from his viewpoint, and then they were back to muttering and poking at the summoning circle on the floor. Whatever it was they were looking for, they didn’t find it. Neither of them looked satisfied.

But most of it was nonsensical to Steve. He wasn’t a magician, didn’t pretend to be. He understood the pronouns and a few familiar terms and most of it went over his head. Just standing around the shop got boring after an hour of this. He tapped them both on the shoulder, said he’d walk around the block, and got blank looks in return. Yeah, they were so buried in the problem, nothing else really penetrated. With a shrug, Steve let himself out the door.

It didn’t sit well with him, not knowing where he was. It was like an itch under the skin, needing to know the lay of the land. So he walked along the sidewalk, head turning as he took in his surroundings. A port city, it looked like, as the sea was right past the road. The wind was brisk, carrying the hint of salt and water. It reminded him a little of home, as Brooks on Lynn was also by the sea. Familiar, but jarring, as his city was packed in tight. Here, it was more spread out with space between buildings and gardens. Sometimes they were mini gardens, just boxes outside of windows, but gardens regardless. And it was warmer here. Back home was usually cool, especially this time of the season. They were heading into fall. But the air against his face made it feel more like the beginning of summer.

It seemed a bit more advanced here, or maybe it was the blend of magic and technology that made him think so. Brooks on Lynn, they leaned towards magic more than machines. Steve passed several trolleys, most of them powered by machine, as he could see the engines. And there were motorcars, rather large ones that could seat more than four people that caught his eye. They even had a few pay phones on the corners in enclosed boxes, which people could readily used. A wealthy country to afford that. Brooks on Lynn was so war torn at this point that having a city like this was only a dream. It made Steve wistful.

Steve got smiles and nods of hellos, curious looks from the people that he passed by. He smiled and nodded back, and it was nice. Being able to do that without someone taking a second look, as if he were familiar. The papers had liked to splash his picture because he was photographic and one of the few super-soldiers that made a difference in the war. And while in the war, it hadn’t really mattered if they’d written up articles on him. Steve had been focused on keeping people safe and defeating his enemies.

But coming home, it had hurt his chances of blending back into society. He was treated as a war hero in some places, but others didn’t know how to react to him. They tended to shy away instead. The dichotomy of it all had confused him in turn. What was he supposed to do?

Steve stopped abruptly on a street corner and looked back. With his memory, it wasn’t really possible to get lost. Still, he didn’t want to wander far, either. He didn’t have any of the local currency on him, or even travel papers to show. He was already several blocks away from Tony’s shop. Best to head back.

He turned in place and walked, not precisely quickly, as he was enjoying the air and anonymity. And he liked to walk and think. Certainly he had a lot to think about.

Rhodey seemed to think that Steve had been called for a reason. That Tony’s magic had brought him, specifically him. Steve was rather of the opinion to agree, for several reasons. One, magic didn’t do arbitrary things without a reason. Sometimes the caster didn’t give the right instructions, granted, and they got a strange result. But that didn’t mean magic did things willy-nilly. So if there was nothing wrong with the spell Tony cast, and he’d gotten Steve?

Then it was for a very good reason.

Second thing that prompted Steve’s opinion on this was that Tony didn’t precisely look well to him. There was an ashen pallor under his olive skin tone, dark circles under his eyes that couldn’t be explained away by lack of sleep. There was something subtly wrong and Steve couldn’t put his finger on it. If there was something Steve was intimately acquainted with, it was being chronically ill. Of moving despite that, functioning day to day, because what other choice was there? Tony was definitely the type to move through sheer willpower.

But if Tony wasn’t healthy, then perhaps his magic had tried to compensate for it? By summoning the strongest protector it could.

Steve looked towards the sky, watched as the stars slowly took over as the sun steadily set. If he were called for a reason…if that’s what Tony figured out, that Steve was precisely what he needed, what then? Did Steve stay? For a strange man that he didn’t even know?

And what did it say about him that he actually entertained the idea of staying? Steve had been admittedly unhappy for months now, but he didn’t realize just how much until he was staring a clean slate right in the face. The idea of starting fresh here was oddly appealing. But would he even be allowed to?

Just once, couldn’t life ask an easy question of Steve?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony, my love, if you ask very nicely you can totally keep Steve, okay? Because Steve is bored out of his mind and you are most definitely his kind of challenge.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony went over the summoning a few hundred times and gathered precisely zero answers. He stopped long enough to play the good host, showing Steve to his guest bedroom—thank all the gods he had one—and then went right back to it. Still no answer. Rhodey maintained that he’d done exactly what every other mage throughout time had done to summon a familiar.

Rather reluctantly, Tony agreed with him.

He went to bed just before dawn, snatching a few hours of sleep, and then woke up blearily to the sounds of someone moving about in the kitchen. There was someone. In his kitchen? At—here he fumbled and found the clock on his nightstand, cranking open one eye to look at the time. Fuck, it was barely eight o’clock in the morning. Who functioned at eight o’clock in the morning? That had to be criminal or something.

From the ethers of his mind, a memory stirred. A memory of a tall, well-built man with fair hair and stunning blue eyes.

Steve.

Tony was abruptly awake. He threw the covers back, pulling on the first clothes at hand, and stumbled through to the kitchen. Only to stop dead at the bar and watch as Steve skillfully flipped pancakes before turning over bacon in a different pan. The kitchen was clean (why?), everything laid out for a breakfast of two along the white counter.

“You cook,” Tony blurted out, as this was nonsensical. An army man who cooked?

Steve turned his head and gave Tony an amused smile that did funny things to Tony’s insides. “The basics, sure. Don’t ask anything too complicated of me. Coffee’s ready if you’d like a cup.”

“God, yes. Liquid intelligence. Gimme.” He went to it like a bee towards nectar, pouring himself a cup nearly brimming over and inhaling it black. Then he poured another because the first cup was just to jump start his system. It didn’t actually supply him with any processing power.

Midway through on the second, he flickered to life and found that Steve was watching him in amusement. He stared back, slurped another mouthful of his caffeine goodness. “I have an epic bedhead, don’t I?”

“You really do,” Steve agreed, smile widening. “But I’m judging if I have to catch you or not. You don’t look balanced or awake.”

“I’m not going to fall over.” Probably. Odds were good, at least. Tony prudently went back to the bar and sat down in a stool to lower the odds further. His balance was a little impaired some days.

Steve sat a plate in front of him that had pancakes, easy-over eggs, and two strips of bacon. Tony may have whimpered a little as he couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked him anything, even a meal as simple as this. He bit into it with gusto, found it all delightful, and was down to the last few bites of pancake before questions started leaking through. “Uh, Steve. I was distracted with a summoning spell gone rogue, so I didn’t ask questions I maybe should have?”

Steve paused in eating, giving him a glance. “Ask away.”

“I’m really not trying to pry here, there’s just things I need to verify. You said you don’t have anyone waiting at home for you?” That made no sense to Tony. The man was gorgeous, for one, why didn’t he have a lover waiting on him? Friends? Someone, anyone. And more than that, Steve was _nice_. He took the walking disaster that was Tony in stride and didn’t get upset with him, cleaned the kitchen, and even cooked for him. Tony couldn’t remember meeting someone this nice in forever. Even Rhodey and Pepper yelled. For good reason, granted.

A sad smile crossed Steve’s face. “Not as such, no. My only family I had left was my mother, and I lost her before I was out of my teens. Most of my friends didn’t survive the war. I came home to a city I knew, but no one to greet me. I’m honestly glad you pulled me here, Tony. I was really at loose ends and not sure what to do with myself. At the very least, you gave me a break from that.”

“Oh,” Tony stupidly said. Then shook himself, because he was a fucking adult and could do better than that. “That’s really rotten. And a shame because you strike me as a nice guy, certainly you’re taking this all in stride better than I would have. Um, so second question, the shield you’re carrying?”

“Odd choice for a weapon, isn’t it?” Steve agreed before sipping at his coffee.

Tony blinked at him. “I’m sorry, weapon?”

“Yeah.” Steve glanced at where it sat on the coffee table. “I had it made just for me.”

Okay, that Tony couldn’t let stand. He hopped off the stool and went towards it immediately, studying it better. He lifted it in his hands, felt the solid weight of it, but saw too the construction. The spells integrated in with the cold metal. “Wow. Seriously, wow, I’ve not seen something constructed like this. It’s pure vibranium, the highest concentration I’ve ever seen. And you’ve got some serious spellwork in this thing. A call to home tied in with your blood—seriously? You have a shield acting like a carrier pigeon? Who even thought of that? And there’s reinforcement spells, not that you likely need them on a vibranium shield. And a beacon spell, I assume so mages can target on you. Shit, Steve. Who _are_ you?”

Steve ignored his breakfast, eyes taking Tony in with that penetrative stare that made it feel as if he could see right through him. “You know, I’ve wondered that about you more than once. You tell me you’re an artificer, and a mage-in-training, and that should tell me a lot. But it doesn’t really. Because it doesn’t explain your strange magic, or the way you can dissect things with your eyes. There’s a glamour on that shield too, a deflection so that mages can’t analyze it the way you just did.”

Was there? Oops, there was, right there. Tony tended to ignore glamours routinely as they obviously had no effect on his sight.

Tony put the shield down. “I’m what I’ve said.”

“No, I think you’ve been told that’s all you are. Take it from a man that’s learned it the hard way. What you’ve been told, and what is the reality, are often two very different things.”

Tony sucked in a breath. He was less concerned with how Steve viewed him and more curious about who Steve was. “Okay, so who are you? And why do I see traces of magic in your system?”

Steve sucked in a startled breath that expelled on a choked laugh. “Great gods, man, but your eyes really are something. How long did it take you to see that?”

“Uh, the first five seconds? Too much was going on, I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

“Five seconds. Right.” Shaking his head, Steve gestured for him to rejoin him at the bar. Tony promptly did so, retreating to his seat. Only once he was settled did Steve continue talking. “I told you I was one of the best. Well, the reason why I say that is because I was made into one of the best. At the beginning of the war—how much do you know about the war between Brooks on Lynn and Nazin?”

“Not a lot. We were too far removed from it to get much news. I know it was brutal, and you were overwhelmed in the beginning. No one was sure if you’d win.”

“We weren’t sure of that ourselves.” Steve’s eyes turned blind in memory. “We didn’t go looking for that fight. But it came to us regardless. Every able-bodied man was called to enlist. I tried, but I wasn’t fighting fit, not then. I had two terrible health conditions that barred me from it. As the war progressed, they were desperate for more soldiers, and the mages started putting their heads together. Trying to find ways to heal people, take in the ones not healthy enough to serve, and get them to a strong state. I volunteered for one of their pilot programs. It was touch and go for about three months, but one of the mages made a breakthrough. It worked on me and worked well. I became what you see now.”

Tony bit his lip, eyes roving over the fit body in front of him. “Steve, what he did…that wasn’t just to heal you. Your musculature is changed, enhanced to a staggering level. Your reflexes and nerves, too. He tapped into your healing ability as well, literally supercharged it. I bet it’s hard to truly injure you.”

“Near impossible,” Steve confirmed quietly. “And you really can see it all, can’t you?”

“It’s part of how my magic works. I can examine everything down to it’s smallest component if you get me close enough.” Tony waved this off as unimportant. “With so much magic and time poured into you, are you really telling me that no one’s keeping track of you? That no one cares if you suddenly disappear?”

“Oh, they cared during the war. But I’ve served my purpose. I came home to a quiet apartment, Tony. I’ve been knocking about a city that’s become a stranger to me, talking to anyone I see just to pass the time. I really, truly, do not know what to do with myself. I’ve thought about it a lot ever since I came home.” His mouth quirked at the corners. “I admit, being a familiar to a mage wasn’t anywhere on my list.”

Tony snorted. “I bet. Well, if you’re really that bored and willing to keep me company while I figure this out?”

“I am.”

“Then let’s go get you some clothes to tide you over. Because I’m not sure of a lot of things right now, but the one thing I am sure of is that you can’t borrow anything of mine. Nothing will fit.”

“I’d like that. Wearing these clothes day in and day out will get old very quickly. Give me a few minutes to do the dishes and then we can go.”

Tony blinked several times. “Wait. There really are people that do that? Do dishes right after they eat? You’re not trying to be polite or something, are you?”

“Dishes done are dishes I don’t have to think about later,” Steve pointed out as if this was reasonable. “And while I do dishes, maybe you can find a comb?”

Reminded, Tony put a hand to his hair. Bedhead. Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Tony, Steve is more than a pretty face and awesome body. Pay attention now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, okay, I can finally get more Tony-speak in here now that he's not completely frantic. 
> 
> Excuse an evil chuckle.

* * *

Tony’s default was to talk when he didn’t really know what he was doing, so his mouth was running full speed ahead even as he locked the front door. “—two different clothing stores that I think might have things in your size, as you’re rather tall and those awesome shoulders are definitely going to give us problems in the shirt department. But I think we can find things to work. I swear, I probably don’t need to keep you more than a week, maybe less, maybe more, but there’s a lot about what happened last night that flat out doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I can stay longer,” Steve returned amiably.

Tony’s head jerked around so he could stare up at him for a flat second. “Um. Sure. You really are not in a hurry to get back, huh. I mean, I’m glad, because less pressure for me but isn’t being here strange? I mean, staying with a strange man who babbles at you and doesn’t remember to feed you breakfast, that’s not something people generally sign up for?”

“I spent a full year staying in unfamiliar places with people I barely had a name for,” Steve pointed out, smiling down at Tony as if he found him adorable and that expression, that was just insulting. Tony was many things but adorable was not one of them. “This situation isn’t strange in that sense. And I’m just as curious about the answer, too. Why me? I didn’t think a familiar summoning _could_ fetch anything but an animal of some kind.”

“Well, technically it can, I’ve seen some sentient magical artifacts summoned. And there was that one thing, it was like a golem, that was probably the strangest familiar I’ve seen. You’re not a golem, though.”

Steve was definitely laughing behind that straight face. “I’m pretty sure on that.”

“You’re better looking than a golem, so I’m going with not-golem in your case. I mean, have you seen a golem? Rocky jumble of pieces with moss on them, makes lots of grinding noises, weird. Just weird. Anyway. I got sidetracked, where was I?”

“Clothes.”

“Right. So let’s get you at least a week’s worth of clothes to tide you over. Uh, Henry’s store, let’s start there. And if someone asks, you weren’t summoned, you’re just a friend of a friend that I’m showing around, okay?”

Steve’s eyes were sharp on him, weighing. “Any reason why?”

“Uh, well, shit I might as well tell you. You’re bound to hear it from somebody.” Tony winced, already resigned to the inevitable reaction, and steadfastly looked anywhere but Steve’s face. “I’m already in trouble with the magic council. Because I’m twenty-three and still haven’t sat for the last of the Trials, see. They’ve given me thirty days to finish—twenty-nine now—or abandon my license. If they hear that I summoned a man, well, I’m not sure how they’d take it. Probably not well.”

“I see. But if you only have thirty days, why spend time studying my summoning? Shouldn’t you immediately break our bond and try again? Or are you worried about what will come to you next?”

“Basically that, yeah.” Tony dared a peek. Odd, Steve just looked thoughtful instead of pitying. Tony hated the pity above all and he got it from all sides. “I don’t understand why I got you in the first place. And I still have to figure out how to get you home again.”

“Hmm, yes. Portaling me across that distance would be far too much. I suppose a train would be the best option.”

The idea of sending Steve off didn’t actually appeal to Tony. He kind of liked Steve and the idea of never seeing him again was depressing. Of course, that was also the familiar-mage bond likely talking. It wouldn’t like the idea of separation one iota.

Shaking that off, Tony admitted, “And we can’t stay bound like this for too much longer. The familiar-mage bond will start to settle in, and get really attached, and it’ll hurt to break it. I’d rather not go there.”

Steve nodded immediately in agreement. “I’m not a fan of pain myself. Are you confident you can figure it out?”

“Why I got you, you mean? Heh. No. I’ve been studying my own magic for years and while I figured out the rules of how it worked, why still escapes me. Never made much sense to my father, either, and it was frustrating to him in the extreme.” Also a raging disappointment as Tony couldn’t follow in his footsteps. But he preferred not to think about that. “So I have little faith I’ll figure this out but I’d like to at least try.”

“Fair enough. Can I do the job of your familiar for the next week?” Steve gestured to the store they were fast approaching. “I’d feel bad about you buying me things without doing anything to earn them.”

“Oh. Well. Sure?” Tony was clear on his need for a familiar, but he had no idea what to actually do with one. Familiars presumably required regularly feeding. Maybe walks?

“Good.” Steve went ahead two steps and opened the door, holding it aside so Tony could enter first.

Tony slipped past with a quick smile, then greeted the store proprietor with a wave. “Morning, Henry.”

“Morning,” Henry returned. An amiable man with a fatherly paunch and bushy mustache, Henry always seemed right on the verge of a smile. “Your timing is good, Tony. This stupid contraption is acting up again.”

“I keep telling you, you need to upgrade it to a newer model.” Even as he said the words, Tony was heading around the long counter to get a look at the register. It was older than he and Henry combined, the gears slowly stripping away. He’d taken a look at it more than once, replacing something or other.

“Well, buy enough clothes that I can afford to replace it, and I’ll do so,” Henry joked as he always did. “And who’s your friend?”

“I’m Steve.” There was a slight professional tinge to Steve’s bearing and manner as if he’d introduced himself a thousand times and was used to it. He held out a hand which Henry took, the shake firm. “I’m visiting. I have a slight issue where I arrived without any packed bags, so I do actually need to buy a few things to tide me over.”

“Truly? Those kind of mishaps happen when you travel.”

Tony’s head came up and he looked at Steve with interest. With how Steve had phrased it, he told no lie but misdirected Henry perfectly. And all with a sheepish sort of smile on his face, like he played to a crowd. Now where did he pick up that acting skill?

“Well, Steve, what’s your sizes? Let’s see what I’ve got that will fit a tall man like you.”

“Sure.” Steve followed him to the far wall, where the men’s clothing hung on racks and displays, letting Henry direct him.

Tony kept an ear trained on the two men even as he worked on the tiller. This time, it wasn’t that a gear had slipped, but something had gotten jammed into it. The tiller drawer refused to shut properly, and until it closed, Henry couldn’t clear the register and ring up another sale. No wonder he was frustrated.

“Hey, Henry!” Tony called. “Something’s jammed in here. I don’t have the tools to try and fish it out, can I just vanish it?”

“Go ahead,” Henry responded with a wave. “Now Steve, how about this shirt? It’s a good color and I think it’ll give you enough room in the shoulders.”

“Can I try it on?”

“Go ahead, there’s a changing room in there.”

Tony could just see the tip of whatever it was jammed back there. It looked like a note, or a receipt. Some kind of thin paper, anyway. Paper didn’t require a lengthy incantation to deconstruct, so it only took him about twenty seconds. With it gone, he was able to shut the drawer easily. He popped it open and shut it again, testing, making sure nothing else was wrong. It worked smoothly. Good, Tony was always in favor of an easy fix.

As long as the damn thing stayed fix. He had no faith that would be the case.

He looked up to see how the shopping was coming only to find that Steve had changed into a soft navy blue shirt that did really amazing things for both his eyes and biceps and yes. Absolutely yes, they were buying that one.

It took him a second to realize that Steve regarded him with intense interest, as if Tony had done something—oh. Right. Steve had never heard him work a spell until now. What did that expression mean, exactly?

Steve’s expression relaxed, transitioning into a slight smile. “I like this one. What do you think, Tony?”

“It looks great,” Tony answered honestly.

“Then this one. Master Henry, do you have any others like this?”

“I do, in a few colors. Let’s see, I’ve got it in white and green as well—”

What followed was something of a fashion show. Henry got completely carried away and Tony frankly didn’t blame him. Or have any interest in stopping him, for that matter. Steve made anything look good and Tony frankly enjoyed the show.

Except the grey shirt, that one was out.

It did bring up a little issue for Tony, though. He’d been so focused on the problem yesterday that he hadn’t properly _looked_ at Steve. It had been nothing more than a superficial observation of ‘oh, he’s rather handsome’ that had flitted through his brain. Now he had nothing else to focus on but look at Steve and it was a damn fine view. Tony hadn’t ever been all that great with people, not in properly connecting with them, at least. One night stands seemed the best that he could manage and even those were infrequent because he stayed holed up in his workshop most of the time.

Looking at Steve reminded him just how long ago his last encounter had been.

Tony blamed the purple shirt for his mind going into the gutter. It was definitely the shirt’s fault as it molded to Steve with all the loving detail of a lover’s hands. That shirt left very little to the imagination.

He had to live with this man for a week? And behave?

Tony stamped down a rising whimper. He may be in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony, honey, I need you to understand that Steve is observant. Steve is well aware that you enjoy looking at him and he's playing to the crowd. Playing very hard to that crowd. 
> 
> Yes, that pun might be intended.


	5. Chapter 5

Their shopping trip gave Steve new questions. Three, in fact, although he had a feeling he might not get an immediate answer to the third one. But the first two seemed like something that he could ask Tony about.

As they walked back to Tony’s apartment, the bags of new clothes in Steve’s hand, Steve posed the first one. “You said that your magic likes to destroy, but exactly how does it work? You’ve only said it takes a long incantation, that it’s tailor-made for each instance, but that doesn’t explain how it functions.”

Tony tilted his head up to give him a bemused smile, dark eyes crinkling up in the corners and it was a very charming expression. “You realize asking that question of me is like asking a writer what they’re working on? That I can, and have, kept people hostage for hours as I talk way over their heads and bore them to tears?”

“Bore me. I’m curious.”

“Hell, you’re serious.” Tony let out a half-laugh, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one, Steve. But okay, let me see if I can put into layman’s terms. So, to me, the world doesn’t look like simple structures. I can see the design of everything, right down to its smallest part.”

“You mean like now? Just casually walking about, you can still see it?”

“Yeah, my eyes don’t really take a break. I’ve learned how to look past it. Sometimes. But mostly everything in the world has lines and numbers faintly glowing.”

Steve thought about that. How disorienting that must be, how confusing it probably became. It tied into his second question, of how a regular familiar could even begin to cope with Tony’s talent. Familiars were always smart, of course they were, but to that degree? Steve had seen magicians in action, in the thick of battle. He’d guarded more than a few as they worked because the magic was too complex for a quick one-off spell. Their familiars, try as they might, couldn’t fully protect a stationary mage while they worked. Tony did complex magic all of the time, that was his norm. Frankly, the idea of a normal familiar guarding this man chilled Steve’s blood.

And if Tony was inundated with information just walking down a street… “Once you called me, did that change at all?”

Snorting, Tony denied, “I wish. No. A familiar-mage bond would not change how my magic works, more’s the pity. It comes incredibly handy when I’m working on something, though. I can see the strength and weakness in any metal I’m crafting, for instance.”

“I can see how that would be helpful,” Steve allowed.

Tony pulled his keys from a pocket to open his apartment door, talking as he jiggled the lock. “Of course, I’ve also been known to catch sight of something shiny and drift to a stop while I stare at it. Drives both Rhodey and Pepper insane.”

“Who’s Pepper—”

“TONY!”

Tony’s head snapped around. A portly man was frantically waving over his head with one arm even as he ran toward them.

“Uh-oh,” Tony said under his breath. “Steve, I think you’re about to see me in action. Yaegar, what’s happening?”

Yaegar puffed to a stop, hands on his knees as he dragged in breaths. Sweat streamed from his temples, darkening under his armpits and along his chest. He’d obviously run hard to reach Tony. “Whale—whale’s been caught in the fishing nets—”

“Fucking shit,” was Tony’s dark opinion of that. “Docks or ship?”

“Ship, the _Christina_ —”

Steve didn’t need to be given directions. He put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and requested, “Two seconds.” Then he charged up the narrow stairs, threw his clothes onto the couch, snatched up the shield he hadn’t bothered to take this morning, and rushed right back down.

Tony vibrated in place, shifting from foot to foot, eager to be off. As soon as Steve hit the threshold of the door, he slammed it shut again without bothering to lock it this time and sprinted down the hill. Steve easily kept pace with him, and poor Yaegar frantically tried to do so, although he lagged immediately behind, as he was still struggling to catch his breath.

It was obvious that Tony didn’t need a guide, he changed streets with purpose, his feet pounding against the hard cobblestone. Steve was close on his heels as he followed him down the winding streets to the base of the hill, where the docks stretched over the water.

No one was really working, everyone intent on the scene outside of the harbor. And it was quite the scene. A huge whale was half-tangled next to a large fishing ship, a fin and part of the side sticking up out of the water. It thrashed a little as Steve watched and the ship rocked back and forth with it. Even from here, Steve fancied he could hear the yells of panic and dismay from those on board.

A woman stood on top of two crates, and she had both arms waving frantically over her head. “TONY!”

Tony beelined for her, running flat out, skidding to a stop only inches away from the edge of the dock. He was breathing hard but still demanded, “Marsha, you sure?”

“Get in already!” the brunette ordered even as she hopped down.

It was a motorized skiff, the engine large and hanging over the back side of it. Steve had never seen the design before, but he had no chance to study it. He and Tony loaded quickly into the narrow skiff, finding seats on the two benches on either side, and Marsha maneuvered to the back, her hand on the lever jutting out of the engine. It fired up with a roar, Steve yanked the line mooring, pulled it into the boat, and they were off.

The motor was loud enough to make talking difficult, but Tony didn’t let that stop him. He yelled back to her, “How long has it been going on?”

“About twenty minutes ago, they realized the problem!” Marsha answered, eyes intent on the water as she drove them past the other shipping vessels in the round harbor. “They were coming back in with a haul of fish, I think they assumed they had a mother catch!”

Steve snorted a dark laugh. “They weren’t wrong.”

Tony grimaced a smile. “Unfortunately. I assume they tried to cut the lines?”

“It’s so tangled, they’re not making much headway! Part of the net has gotten wrapped around the mast, with all the thrashing, and you know those nets are reinforced.”

Reinforced, thereby a sharp knife couldn’t easily cut through? Steve knew absolutely nothing about fishing, but that’s what these two were intimating. They were closing on the ship rapidly, the little skiff basically skipping over the top of the water with its speed. Steve ignored the spray of seawater against his face and clothes, as he needed operational parameters on this before they arrived. “Tony! What are you planning to do?”

“I need to get on board ship,” Tony answered, his eyes already on the problem. “If the net’s tangled around the mast, that’s where I need to cut it free. Steve, once I start the incantation, I can’t pause. I can’t be disrupted. Bad things tend to happen.”

That didn’t sound alarming or anything. “Then I’ll make sure you’re not interrupted.”

Tony flashed him a quick smile, but it was strained. “I’d appreciate it.”

The motor throttled back as Marsha brought them around to the opposite side of the ship from where the whale was. There was already a rope ladder over the side, anticipating them. Steve reached up, stabilizing the bottom of the ladder, and Tony scrambled up it like a monkey. Steve waited until he was over the rail before following him up.

“Tony!” a man greeted with open relief. “Thank all the gods, what can we do?”

Steve was over the rail, feet thudding dully against the wood of the deck, before Tony could fully respond.

“Get everyone well clear,” Tony ordered as he moved purposefully for the main mast. “When this thing snaps, it’ll take everything out in its path. I—whoa!”

There were times when Steve’s enhanced reflexes moved him before his mind really had time to think it through. As the whale once again tugged at the net, pulling the ship sharply towards her, Steve lunged forward and caught Tony before he could skitter too far. He clamped one hand around Tony’s waist, the other hand caught a rigging line and pulled them to a halt.

Tony’s hands wrapped around Steve’s arm, feet scrambling for purchase. But he trusted the hold, didn’t try to squirm. “Good catch.”

Snorting, Steve deadpanned, “You’re welcome. Can you work from here?”

“Oh, I’m plenty close enough. But I’m not sure if I’m stable enough. Another dip like that, and I’ll go careening.”

“No, you won’t.” Steve met warm brown eyes with his own as Tony craned his neck up and around to stare doubtfully at him. “I can lock my own position better and then hold you in place. You won’t move.”

Tony evaluated him for a long second. Something about Steve’s confidence must have sold him, as an answering smile spread over his face. “You know, I think you can, at that. Alright, let’s do it. I’ll probably need a full minute on this.”

A full minute, under the wrong circumstances, could feel like a decade. Steve nodded in understanding and rearranged them to where he had an arm hooked into the rigging, both feet planted against the decking with knees slightly bent. Tony stepped in between his legs, putting his back to Steve’s chest. He was warm and fit snugly against Steve. He smelled good, too, like musk.

Annnnnd Steve should probably focus. Yeah.

“Ready?” Tony faced the net and the thrashing whale and his question was loud enough that it was obvious he addressed the whole crew.

Everyone else had scrambled for whatever safety they could find, most hiding in the cabin. They yelled back affirmatives.

Steve answered against the top of Tony’s head. “Yes. Do it.”

With a deep breath, Tony started speaking. It wasn’t a language that Steve really understood, although it didn’t really sound like some archaic language. More that Tony was speaking in math formulas, and chemicals, and things of pure science. Which was odd, as he was most definitely working magic.

The whale thrashed again, upsetting the balance of the ship and they rocked back and forth in a dip bad enough that Steve feared capsize for a moment. But he held firm, held Tony firm, and Tony didn’t falter in the incantation. Although he did start talking a touch faster.

Steve expected the net to start snapping a line at a time as Tony’s magic worked. That wasn’t what happened at all. One minute, there was a net wrapped around the main mast and over half of the ship. The next, it was gone. It disintegrated like dust in the wind, no trace of it to be seen.

Holy hell. When Tony said he could dismantle things, _this_ was what he meant?

There was no time to wonder about it, or be awestruck. The absence of the net set the whale abruptly free, and the tension lashing the whale and ship together abruptly released. The ship rocked again under its freedom and the whale lost no time in rolling, putting distance between herself and the ship. It sent a surge of water against the ship, rocking it again. Steve had to fight hard to keep his footing and not lose his grip on Tony.

Tony once again grabbed the arm around his waist for stability. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

After that initial jerk, the ship’s sideways movement died down, and it settled again with a slight creak. Steve didn’t automatically release Tony when that happened. He found that he couldn’t, his protective instincts flaring despite the danger being past. “Alright?”

“I’m peachy keen,” Tony answered, once again tilting his head up to look at Steve. “You?”

“I’m good.” Surprised, amazed, relieved and a few dozen other emotions.

What Tony had just done took magic to an entirely different level. Steve had literally never seen the like. He’d not fully understood it in the shop, with the register, as he’d not seen exactly what Tony had done. But now, with this full view, he did. On the one hand, it gave him a whole new set of questions. On the other, it outraged him.

Tony had a unique brand of magic that could do the world an amazing amount of good, and that stupid magical council of his was trying to deny him a license? Just because he didn’t meet some arbitrary standard? The more Steve thought about it, the more his blood boiled.

A hand patted his. “Let me go now, there’s a good familiar.”

Snorting, Steve unclamped and let Tony find his own feet. “That was amazing, Tony. I’m still in shock. That’s what your magic can do?”

“Yeah. In a nutshell.” Tony’s eyes were sharp on him, evaluating. “Most people, when they see me do it the first time, they’re many things but not amazed.”

How could anyone not be amazed by this? Steve might find it a little unnerving on some level, sure, but the applications of his magic alone—

The same man that had greeted them earlier approached, a smile stretching from ear to ear. “Tony Stark, you are the man of the hour. Thank you so much.”

“Sorry I had to destroy the complete net.” Tony gestured to the blank space.

“You don’t worry about that damn net. You saved all of our lives and my ship to boot. The net’s worth the loss in comparison to that. I’ll send payment for the job round to you later tonight, after I get the _Christina_ back in harbor.”

“Sure.” Tony agreed amicably.

The man turned to Steve, expression curious. He offered a blunt-tipped hand. “I’m Tyrick, ship’s captain.”

Steve shook the hand, mouth quirked up in a polite smile. “Steve, nice to meet you.”

“You came out to help Tony, I take it?”

“I did.” In more ways than one. And the more time Steve spent with him, the more he wondered.

Had his summoning been a mistake? Or had Tony’s magic known precisely what it was doing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Steve, ask those questions.


End file.
